


The Hardest Word

by simeysgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4446062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simeysgirl/pseuds/simeysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and Draco has someone he wants to talk to. There's something he needs to say. A remix of <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/">nursedarry</a>'s <a href="http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/124753.html">No Easy Thing</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardest Word

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a prequel to No Easy Thing, but I highly recommend reading that before reading this. All the thanks and hugs to G for all her help.

**Author:** [](http://kjp-013.livejournal.com/profile)[**kjp_013**](http://kjp-013.livejournal.com/)  
 **Title:** The Hardest Word  
 **Pairing(s):** Harry/Draco  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Warnings/Content:** (Highlight to view) * First person POV and a severe lack of Harry*  
 **Summary:** The war is over and Draco has someone he wants to talk to. There's something he needs to say. A remix of [](http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/profile)[**nursedarry**](http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/) 's [No Easy Thing](http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/124753.html).  
 **Word Count:** ~1600  
 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to JKR, not me. The original story that this is based on belongs to [](http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/profile)[**nursedarry**](http://nursedarry.livejournal.com/).  
 **Author's/Artist's Notes** : This is technically a prequel to No Easy Thing, but I highly recommend reading that before reading this. All the thanks and hugs to G for all her help.

This was written for the [](http://hd-remix.livejournal.com/profile)[**hd_remix**](http://hd-remix.livejournal.com/) vol. 7.0.

Sorry.

Such a small, simple word. Five letters. Two syllables. Sor-ry. It should be so easy to say. It has been. I've said it hundreds of times in the past; I've said it almost daily. Bumping into someone: sorry. Walking in on your friend and their girlfriend: sorry. Forgetting your homework: sorry.

I've said it sarcastically, I've said it to try to get myself out of trouble, I've said it because I've actually felt apologetic. I couldn't count how many times I've said it in my life, nor would I want to.

So why have I found it so hard to say it to you? So many times I almost spoke to you, but I couldn't do it.

~

It was when I saw you immediately after you'd rid us of the Dark Lord once and for all that I realised that I needed to say something, anything— _sorry_ to you.

It was seeing the look or pure relief on my mother's face when she saw that I was all right. It was, despite all the deaths, despite the sheer exhaustion, seeing the small smiles on people's faces at it finally being over.

Because it _was_ over. Finally, thankfully, over. I could've cried with relief myself. We barely had a proper childhood thanks to that noseless bastard, but it was done. Finished. And it was thanks to you.

Even if I could have gathered some courage to talk to you that day, it would have been impossible. I don't think any one of your friends would have welcomed my presence. And, of course, me being dragged off by the Aurors probably wouldn't have encouraged anyone to let me anywhere near you.

~

The next time I saw you, I was too surprised to act at first. I'd heard rumours of you being there when he died, but I didn't think for a second that I'd see you at Severus' funeral. But there you were, looking uncomfortable in your dress robes, trying to look inconspicuous at the back of the crowd. Which was daft, as you had about half of the mourners and at least twelve cameras in your face.

After you'd stood up in court for me and my mother, I'd tried to talk to you, to thank you, but I couldn't get near you. I hoped my nod would be enough until I saw you next, but I hadn't given a thought to it being so soon.

I didn't even get a chance to think about talking to you before you left. Severus' body hadn't even been lowered fully into his grave before you shuffled off, the click of a dozen cameras heralding your exit.

~

I even contemplated writing you a letter. I started writing to you so may times. I made a little game of it, seeing how many crumpled balls of parchment I could amass before a house-elf would come and clean it up. It took one little mountain of parchment before I could decide on how to bloody start it. After going through variations of _Potter, Harry, Mr Potter, HP_ and even a few where I didn't even address you, I settled on a simple _Harry_. I then spent hours (and many piles) trying to write something— _anything_ —down.

As Tilly banished the fifth mountain of balled up, scribbled on parchment—I could swear I saw her roll her big, bulbous eyes as she did so—I realised that I couldn't write down what I needed to say to you. I wanted to speak to you in person.

~

Luna's party was my next chance to talk to you face-to-face. I didn't—really, really didn't—want to go to her birthday, but she insisted I attend. I talked to her a lot about the war. After all, she was the only person that I hadn't known since birth who actually wanted to speak to me.

Luna was someone I'd said sorry to a lot. She didn't want to hear it, though. She told me that I didn't have anything to apologise for. I didn't believe her, of course. I'd been there. I watched my crazy bitch of an aunt lock her up in the dungeon; I hadn't stopped her. Them. No, Luna was wrong. I had a lot to be sorry for.

Luna was adamant. She told me outright that she wanted me at her birthday party. So I went. I saw you and again couldn't bring myself to talk to you.

I talked to others, though. Luna dragged me around the room, talking to her friends until we ended up in front of Dean. He simply smiled uneasily as I muttered my apologies. Luna shook her head and told me off—with wagging fingers and everything—for 'being an idiot'. Dean just said that he didn't _want_ me to apologise—I didn't need to—that he was putting the war behind him and that he'd see me in school.

~

School. I never imagined that I would be able to return to Hogwarts. I'd seen McGonagall at Severus' funeral, but she'd shut down my attempts at apologising for what had happened at school and I'd assumed that that was the end of it.

Apparently not, as the next time I saw you, I was in Diagon Alley with Pansy, clutching my Hogwart's letter in my hand and shopping for my school supplies. I could cope with the stares and mutters that followed me everywhere I went. I deserved it, after all. I just hoped that people could see it in themselves to put the war behind them sometime soon.

I was just leaving Gringotts when I spotted you at the other end of the alley, flanked, as always, by your friends and followed by a pack of journalists.

I had to talk to you. I couldn't go back to school and see you every day without speaking with you first. I needed to start afresh. Start anew. And that started with you.

I knew I had a matter of minutes before we were face-to-face and my brain whirled as I wondered what to say if you'd even talk to me. As we approached, I turned to Pansy to excuse myself, only to see her face hard and determined. Before I had a chance to say anything, Pansy walked up to you and started talking about how she had been scared and was sorry for her actions.

The bloody cow stole my words! Anything I said after that would have seemed disingenuous. Besides, I didn't get the chance. Before you'd finished mumbling to Pansy that it was all right and that you'd see her at school, your friends were dragging you off, the loud bangs of the camera bulbs echoing in my ears.

I'll never forget that petrified look on your face, though. It was hilarious. You looked as if you didn't know whether Pansy was going to hex you or kiss you!

~

I'd missed my chance in Diagon Alley, so I psyched myself up to talk to you on the train. I spent hours in front of my mirror—to the utter delight of my prying mother—perfecting exactly what I was going to say.

I couldn't do it, though. I chickened out. I couldn't tell you how many times I walked past your carriage. Pansy actually asked me if I needed a stomach potion, I'd 'gone to the bathroom' so many times.

I couldn't bring myself to knock on the door and disturb you. You looked to be having fun with your friends. I didn't want to intrude. Excuses, excuses, I know.

I had no excuses on the second day of school, though. Professor McGonagall had welcomes us all back to Hogwarts and warned the entire school that Hogwarts was no place to air any leftover grievances. The war was over, she'd insisted, and it was time for us to try and move past it.

One way she sought to achieve this, was to place all returning eighth year students—regardless of previous house allegiance—in one tower in the hopes we'd all show the younger students how it was done. It was no surprise to anyone that Hermione took it upon herself to start things off. It was surprising to everyone, however—especially you, judging by that confused look on your face again—that she chose to share a room with Pansy and Millicent and not the Patil twins.

I successfully avoided everyone but Blaise and Theo the first day. I just wanted to settle back into school; I could face the mutters and stares another day. We had no classes so it was pretty easy to do. Everyone else was catching up with their friends and enjoying the sunshine. All I had to do was stay in my room and organise my bookshelf.

The second day, I woke late. Why Blaise didn't wake me, I'll never know, but I had ten minutes to make the choice between facing the stares at breakfast or face Charms on an empty stomach. Walking into the common room, my mind was made up immediately.

You were walking out of your room, wiping sleep from your eyes, and I knew I wasn't going to breakfast. The room was empty but for us and I had no excuses. No reason not to talk to you. Nowhere to run or hide. I struggled to remember the beginning of the big speech I had planned out.

You saw me and smiled and I was lost. I smiled back and one word tumbled out.

“Harry...”


End file.
